Out of Darkness We Shall Tread
by sirjosh10
Summary: A knight abruptly awakens in castle ruins, without memories and without weapons he must search for his past. It is not long before he finds signs of trouble, and then it finds him. Set before Book 1, little background is necessary. T for moderate violence, and possible language. What you see was done a year ago. /currently awaiting inspiration, may not continue for some time/
1. Introduction

Cold winter winds and warm summer nights, these memories I recalled as I awoke from a deep and troubled sleep. I thought of the past, how the world had fallen into chaos, the chaos, yes, that is why I am here. Rubbing my eyes I felt some dirt sprinkle off my cheek. Squinting, squinting twice, now what forsaken place had my ill fortunes brought me to? Stones. A prison no doubt, but where!I struggled out of my corner, my muscles aching. I felt for my weapons, my sword. Gone. As I stooped in the torchlight I realized my limbs were not bound and ever more I could not see bars. Where in blazes was I?

I pulled the torch from it's socket and stretched my weary limbs. To grasp something felt good, but not nearly like that of my sword hilt. Wary, I edged my way to the corner and peaked, I was at the end of a corridor with only one other room and stairs at the far end, sunlight pierced the grayness around me and fell on a few stairs. Sneaking I found my way to the next room over numerous bricks and mortar. Peering in I saw a dying fire, some firewood sprawled by the hearth, a small wooden table and chair, also there was a loaf of bread that looked neither stale or fresh, and a peculiar small bundle in a corner. For the first time I felt hunger, not severe but presently sickening. Cautiously sitting down I picked up the bread, a whole loaf and mildly damp.


	2. A struggle for Identity

The chair groaned and I stiffened, waiting for any noise save the cracks of the dying fire, Nothing. Just the sound of a breeze up the stairs. I shivered, the chair groaned. Carefully I got up and sat in front of the fireplace, my eyes moistened as the wisps of smoke entered my eyes and nose. Noticing the package again, I delicately tested it, it was hefty and dense and I made sure to move it soundlessly as I pulled it across the stones. Untying the string and pulling off the linen, I found to my surprise a stone.

A most peculiar stone it was indeed, it looked like one you would find at the top of an arch. This one however had a strange symbol on the smaller face. It was a a strange circle, it reminded me of a map, it had a banner across reading words of a foreign tongue. They looked familiar but I could not place it. Confused and exhausted, I lay on the smooth stones nearest the fire, covering myself with the linen wrappings. Letting myself fall to sleep with mind a flurry.


	3. Of Fire and Memory

Quite suddenly I awoke from a dream I had already forgotten. The fire was out, the torches were dead, and I lay still. My captors, if so they were had done nothing to me.

Straightening, I searched blindly for the firewood. My hands, scrabbling found the pile and drowsily tossed them in the hearth. The ensuing shower of sparks prompted my memory!, now, already fleeting leaving me stunned. -Wait!, could the smoke be seen? Groggily attempting to move quietly past the doorway, I tripped and fell, my head landing outside the doorway, my eyes seeing nothing. For nothing was there but the sense of cold on my cheek. Stretching again and feeling the wall. I walked heavily but careful to where the stairs ought be. After what felt like a few dozen steps I found them.

Climbing clumsily yet determined, I reached the top, looking around all was dark. Behind me was a darker presence, ominous, my home. I did not see the smoke so I felt safe, already turning around to head back. Easing myself down the stairs, a cold shudder passed through my body putting my nerves on edge. Shaking off the feeling, I returned to my 'room'.

Once again at the fire's edge I lay down, letting myself drift again to sleep, with morning's light I would survey this place my fortunes had brought me to.


	4. Out of Darknness

Daylight broke as it usually did, casting out the aphotic darkness as a fire in the cold. I awoke and soon was alert, sensing for presence and finding none, I arose. Now bright light shone down the stairs, creating an atmosphere that made me want to move. Ever wary, I checked the hallways and few rooms for any signs. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so I returned to my room, gathered what supplies I deemed necessary-a burlap sack from the corner I awoke to, the linen wrap, a torch and of course the stone. Breathing the dank air one last time, I departed. My foot-wraps made little noise as I plodded up the stairs where I found that my home had been under a ruined tower. I circumscribed it finding nothing remarkable, the broken stones of the bunker told nothing new, for this was a war torn land. A light wind picked up, sending a fresh crisp-clean scent to my weathered nose. With finality I strode to the west, following the sun on it's endless journey.

It seemed hours before I decided to rest, I chose the base of a tall spruce tree to take my respite. I thought it odd that there had been no footprints, or any signs for that matter at the sundered tower. Had I brought myself there? It almost made sense, yet none of it did. Then to further confound myself I heaved out he stone from the burlap sack to examine it further. It looked no different, then the branches above me parted and cast sunlight on what no longer looked like stone. Surprised, I held it out in the full light to find that there were small grains of crystal carefully placed to form a phrase.

It was Latin: "semper seragemus, titubare, non cadunt" The phrase meant "ever onward, falter, do not fall". There was more to it. I knew I had to return.


	5. Returning Home

I looked to the sky, the sun had barely moved since I had left. What had felt like hours couldn't have been more than half of one. With heightened sense I ventured back to the sundered tower. I could now see much smoke on the horizon and hear the distant clamor of arms. My pace quickened as my heart sped on. I desperately longed for my sword, but more so to find answers.

When I saw the now familiar ruins I stopped and listened, the din of battle had stopped while I had been running. There was now no sound, no movement, save a plume of smoke and the rustling trees. I instinctively began to prowl around the clearing searching for any hint of life, or death. Assured no one was near, I crept into the clearing.

There were now many tracks, of large heavy boots scattered and disarrayed over the forest ground. There was blood too, not much but enough to be fatal. Someone would definitely not be sleeping well tonight, ha, I might join them. Searching again, I found a broken arrow shaft, and a scrap of cloth that may have been there before the battle. With determination and a burning curiosity, I began to analyze my clues.

After further examination I concluded that there had been five 'visitors' to the battered bastion. (a clever name I thought)

There had been group of two that first arrived...or come back, they were confronted by another party of two, soldiers presumably, by their boot marks.

Soldiers, I scoffed, most likely the Ottomans who recently invaded. There were boot marks, heavy ones from armor of knights. Maybe from the Knights of St. John, an old order from the times of the Crusades. As I crouched thinking my eyes wandered and caught glimpse of a slight movement in the trees, if it was an ambush I was doomed.


	6. Action

The battered bastion sat in a clearing completely enveloped by trees, I crouched about five meters from the entrance. My heart raced as I caught another glimpse of movement, and in an instant I bolted upright and leaped for the entrance, rolling as I hit the ground. In mid-recovery I heard the wizzing of arrows as they darted for me, rolling yet again this time down the stairs and into relative safety. I got up and began running to my room, toward the only weapon available to me, that creaky old chair. I stumbled inside, reached down for the chair and saw an arrow protruding from my thigh. No time now, I heard light footsteps outside, were it not for my overactive senses, they would be inaudible. I was trapped, wounded and, well, trapped.

My mind began to calm, I had some time, albeit not much.


	7. In Pursuit

I looked around the clearing once more and thought of a course of action. After some deliberation, I decided to follow the escapee, I was not quick, but with that wound neither would he. I set off to the West, following the fiery sun on it's daily pilgrimage.

My target was skilled and made good headway despite his wound. I could tell he was making an effort to avoid detection, he made faint footprints and would often use trees so as to not make a perceivable trail. He was loosing blood though and was prone to mistakes, which I followed.

I was getting closer and so decided to be more stealthy, I would not like to meet this stranger by surprise, especially blundering through the underbrush as I was. I felt I was getting closer when the trail vanished. It had done so before but there had always been a saving drop of blood or broken branch for me, but now nothing. Wary once more I crept around searching for the slightest hint of, well anything, but to no avail. Then I heard it, hoof-beats, hammering the ground and approaching. My heart raced and I froze. I saw the banner first, then with a thud my mind went blank.

(A/N: I wrote these chapters a year ago and upload over time, will start writing again if anyone requests. Thank You for any and all support)


	8. The Captured

I awoke in darkness once more, and not to my surprise I was tied to a tree and had a headache, I looked around for my captor, my target, there was a small fire cleverly placed so that the smoke would be dispersed by the trees. I continued my survey, still very much dazed, there was an unusual barrel chested horse a cooking pot, two dead rabbits and nothing more. My dazed mind had began to wander again when suddenly he came out of a tree! I started and instantly regretted it as the ropes burned my cramped muscles. He casually walked over to the fire and sprinkled some herbs into the pot. "Sleep well?", he asked dryly. I stammered, cleared my throat, and, said nothing. He turned after a pause and looked at me, or so I thought. He was wearing a large cowl and cloak of a mottled gray and green texture. He was a small man, but powerful, he carried a long bow and a a knife, no, two. His garb was quite peculiar, in the seconds I was sizing him up, it seemed to waver and meld with the ground. He turned back to the fire and his meal, as he turned I caught a glimpse of a grizzled beard. He finished and slowly began to eat his savory meal, relishing the moment. My mouth watered. He paused and turned to face me, the flames dancing behind him. He waited a moment, I said nothing. "Why are you here?", he asked, picking up his bowl again. I'm here to find just that, I said clearly. "and what did you expect to find?". I hesitated, then said, I need to find out what happened to me.


	9. The Ranger

He stood up, drained his bowl and walked to me, and in a deft movement his hand went to his belt and returned with a hefty saxe knife, of spectacular workmanship. He approached, I stiffened then much to my surprise, he swiftly cut the ropes. My muscles eased and a surge of relief swept over me. I looked into his cowl trying to discern the hidden face but to no avail. He spoke asking sternly "what are you doing". I answered the only way I could, honestly "I don't know" I said resignedly.

/This is where I left off a year ago/


End file.
